


the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

by poisontaster



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Consensual Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Forced Orgasm, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I like my body when it is with your body.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nilchance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/gifts).



Jensen's just come, panting his gasping aftermath into the dampened bamboo fiber of the pillowcase when Jeff's finger circles him again and then slips inside before Jensen can do more than jerk, inarticulate noise falling out of his open, slack lips.

"Shh." Jeff's other hand presses between Jensen's shoulder blades, halfway between stroking and restraining. The finger inside Jensen pushes deep, deeper now that Jensen's worked open from Jeff's cock. Jensen thinks about what Jeff must be feeling right now: Jensen's looser from being fucked, but not so loose that the intrusion of even that one finger doesn't make Jensen's limp dick try to rise to the occasion; he thinks about Jeff's come deep inside him, wet and slicking the way for that slow, probing finger; he thinks about the feverish heat rising from his skin, flushing him pink, searing him deep, radiating all the way to where Jeff is fucking—re-fucking—him with that _one._ maddening.finger and oh, Jesus but Jensen is going to lose his mind.

He can't control his tongue enough to make a name, Jeff's name. What comes out is again only noise, whining and soft. And desperate. So desperate. Jensen's hips curl, soft cock dragging through the puddle of his own come. His wrists jerk against the cuffs, chains scrawling against the headboard's wood and he wants to apologize, he _needs_ to apologize, he knows better, but he just came and Jeff's taking him apart—slowly, methodically, with all the evil, delighted glee he brings to his acting.

"We're okay," Jeff says quietly, deep velvet rumble that rubs its way along Jensen's nerves like Jeff rubbing inside him. Deep, so deep. "You're okay. You can take this. You're going to take this for me, yeah?" The ball of Jeff's finger finds the spongy knot inside Jensen and what was good, verging on too much, becomes oh-my-god-excruciating-but-in-a-good-way. Jensen pushes his face deeper into the pillow, writhing, shouting…but taking it. Because Jeff wants him to.

"See, now. Old guy like me, it takes me a while to get my mojo back," Jeff says conversationally, like they're sitting out in his yard over a couple of cold ones. That was how the night started, Jensen remembers dimly; sweet mesquite and the dogs lolling around their feet, flirting for scraps. "Can't just fuck all night. But there's more than one way of fucking." The touch of Jeff's nose behind Jensen's ear is shocking, as is the superheated blurt of his breath on trembling, already hot skin. "And you… You can go all night, sweetheart. I know you can. So I'm gonna finger you, just like this. And you're gonna get hard, so hard. And then you're gonna come for me."

 _Can't,_ Jensen thinks, shaking, shaking his head so that the rasp of his hair across the pillowcase sounds like stones through a rainstick. _Oh, God, I can't…_

"You can," Jeff insists, before lapping a hot stripe behind Jensen's ear that ends with a surprisingly soft kiss to the bone. "I'm gonna show you." A second finger snugs in and Jensen moans into the stretch, hips lifting up in the whorish desire for more. "Yeah," Jeff croons, voice thickening, deepening. Velvet into the rough, satiny glide of fur. "Oh, sweetheart, my pretty, pretty boy, yeah. Fuck that hand."

Jensen's fingers dig into the sheets and colored fireworks explode behind his squinched shut eyelids as he lifts up, pushes back, rocks on his already aching knees. It's still too soon, not enough juice in him to get hard again, but he's trying, electric shuddering shocks, an entire meteor shower of sensation rushing through him, blowing him up, blowing him open.

Still no words in his head, just animal grunts of want and need, tight, gasping moans.

It scared him, the first time Jeff took him to this place…or maybe it's more of a regression, because when they do this, when Jeff does this to him—for him—it feels purer than that, simpler. Closer to the person he used to be, before the hurts and the failures and the crushing weight of expectation—his own and everyone else's. He's only Jensen in Jeff's bed. Sometimes not even that; sometimes he's just Jeff's Boy.

The slip of Jeff's fingers around Jensen's cock is a shock, more so than the discovery that he's hard again, aching and wet, curving into Jeff's palm like he was meant to be there.

Jensen can't breathe anymore. He turns his face to the side, gulping cool, air-conditioned air like rainwater.

"Yeah," Jeff says again. "Look at me." He's moving so slow. Too slow, though steady, rubbing, rhythmic. The curl of his fingers is static, just holding, cupping.

_Protecting_

"Look at me," Jeff says again, inflexible beneath the softness.

Jensen's eyes crank open, blinking through wetness—tears, sweat—blinking it away to see Jeff's face right there, next to his.

 _"I like my body when it is with your body,"_ Jeff murmurs, craning forward those last few inches to suckle Jensen's bottom lip, cut in with his teeth. It changes the angle of his fingers, the depth of the penetration and Jensen cries out into Jeff's mouth, letting Jeff eat it from him.

 _"I like your body. I like what it does. I like its hows."_ Now Jeff adds speed, pressure, moving so smooth that it—he—feels like part of Jensen's body. Jensen doesn't know what Jeff's quoting but the words—the sentiment—sets up an echo through him and immediate and deep recognition of _truth._

_I like my body when it is with your body._

_I like your body. I like what it does. I like its hows._

"Show me how much you like what I do to you, sweetheart." Jeff breathes the words right against Jensen's skin, making Jensen's bones vibrate with each drawling, dirty syllable. His grip around Jensen's dick tightens, friction and heat for Jensen rub himself into. "Show me how I make you feel. Show me all of it. Everything."

Jensen's moan is lost in another devouring, biting-sucking tongue-tangled kiss but his answer is obvious in the way he grinds forward into one hand and pushes back onto the other, fucking himself on Jeff, with Jeff, losing himself in/on/with Jeff.

And when he falls apart, shaking, and half-screaming, delirious-drunk and out of his mind, it's Jeff's body that holds him there, keeps him there, giving him a reason to stay…and to come back.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem that Jeff quotes is "i like my body when it is with your" by ee cummings. The story's title is from the cummings poem "i carry your heart with me".


End file.
